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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30106629">The Perfect Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyGal/pseuds/LizzyGal'>LizzyGal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales from abroad the Snowpiercer [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Snowpiercer (2013)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships, Dark, Dark Curtis Everett, Dream Sex, F/M, Fear, Fertility Issues, Hand Jobs, Masturbation Interruptus, Menstruation, Mutual Pining, People Coming Together, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Pregnant Tanya, Roughness, Snowpiercer daily life, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity, dark themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:48:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30106629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyGal/pseuds/LizzyGal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in the tail-end of Snowpiercer isn't easy and you aren't trying to make it any more difficult. It's a community. It's a group of people, a unit, a quasi-family even. </p><p>Well, everyone but Curtis, your relationship with him is...complicated.</p><p>You and Curtis love each other, you're incredibly close, the complicated nature of your relationship is only made harder by his insistence of wanting more.</p><p>Curtis doesn't want it to be complicated anymore. Curtis wants to simplify everything. </p><p>:::Content warnings in the beginning notes, so many warnings:::</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Curtis Everett/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales from abroad the Snowpiercer [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2241006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Perfect Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>:::Content warnings::: Snowpiercer is pretty much a warning in itself. But this has mentions of family death in childbirth and by suicide, but nothing on page, plus mentions of taking a child to the front of the train. Fertility is a theme of this and in the Snowpiercer environment, it is not a positive. Discussions about the dangers of childbirth too. There is some below the pants touching for Reader while she is on her period also. Curtis is also a bit possessive, maybe a little morally grey, but we love him for that, anyway, I tagged him as dark just to cover all my bases.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything  was  worse  in  the  tail  end  of  the  train.  Absolutely  everything.  To  include  the  most  normal  bodily  functions.  Things  that  you  could  remember  not  being  much  of  a  problem  before  were  now  made  so  much  worse.</p><p>A  broken  arm.  An  abscessed  tooth.</p><p>Childbirth.  Seizures. </p><p>Menstruation.  </p><p>Illness.</p><p>Childbirth  was  always  the  worst.</p><p>There  was  little  food.  Clean  water  was  practically  nonexistent.  It  was  filthy.  Clothes  were  worn  till  they  were  rags.  Medicine  was  a  big  no.  Medical  care,  no.  Anything  caught  around  the  tail-end  spread  fast.  Burning  through  the  train  car  like  a  wildfire.</p><p>It  was  late  winter.  Everything  was  so  cold.  Colder  than  usual  and  you’d  been  sharing  your  bunk  with  one  of  the  elderly  women.  Sharing  body  heat.  The  two  of  you  would  curl  up  snug  with  one  another,  you  wrapped  around  her  slim  shaking  body  till  her  shaking  became  soft  tremors  and  she  felt  warm  in  your  arms.</p><p>You  had  no  one.</p><p>Your  family  was  gone.  Dead.  Probably  all  of  them.  Of  course,  everyone  in  the  tail-end  was  family,  a  collective  unit  per  say.  You  had  friends  and  were  incredibly  close  to  many.  But  lacked  that  specific  connection.  Ties  that  bound  people  together  were  terrifying  to  you.  Watching  your  parents  die.  Watching  your  brother  get  taken  up  to  the  front  as  an  infant,  never  to  ever  see  him  again.  Knowing  if  you  allowed  yourself  to  fall  in  love  that  you  could  have  that  ripped  away,  or  worse,  knowing  that  if  you  had  a  child,  they  could  be  forcibly  taken  from  you?  It  was  unthinkable.</p><p>You  only  allowed  yourself  friends.</p><p>Friends  were  good.</p><p>Friends  were  all  you  needed.</p><p>Friends  were  it.</p><p>Coughing  kept  you  up  most  the  night.  Woke  you  up  when  the  car  that  held  your  bunks  lightened  artificially    with  morning’s  arrival.  Heavy  deep  wet  coughing  that  was  very  much  something  that  you  knew  would  spread.  Because  it  always  spread.  Everything  spread  in  the  tail-end.</p><p>Whoever  coughed  was  close.  A  few  bunks  down  perhaps?</p><p>As  soon  as  lights  flickered  enough  to  make  things  barely  visible,  Satomi  scooted  out  from  the  warm  embrace  the  two  of  you  had  shared.  Her  silver  hair  loose  and  her  eyes  wide  with  the  knowledge  that  it  would  pass  from  one  to  another  quickly.</p><p>She  pulled  the  single  blanket  that  the  two  of  you  shared  and  with  a  few  whispered  words,  hurried  down  the  aisle.</p><p>Not  that  you  could  blame  her  as  the  coughing  continued.</p><p>Unmoved,  you  remained  on  your  bunk.  Curled  up  on  your  side.  Looking  straight  into  the  bunk  across  from  you  at  Tanya.  Soft  brown  eyes  watched  you  from  within  her  own  bunk.  Wordlessly  she  shook  her  head.  Laying  to  rest  your  concern.  She  frowned  and  burrowed  deeper  into  her  bunk,  pregnant.  So  much  braver  than  you  could  have  ever  imagined.  Soon  she’d  have  her  baby.  Any  day  now.  Here.  In  this  hovel  of  filth  and  despair.</p><p>A  chill  began  to  settle  over  you  with  the  blanket  and  Satomi  gone.  For  a  moment  you  considered  getting  up.  That  only  lasted  a  moment.  Instead,  you  curled  up  into  a  tighter  ball  and  closed  your  eyes.  Maybe  you  could  get  some  more  sleep?  An  hour  even?  Any  additional  sleep  was  welcome.  Every  single  cough  had  kept  you  up  all  night.  So  in  that  moment,  you  were  tired  enough  that  the  cold  settling  over  you  wasn’t  unbearable.</p><p>Closing  your  eyes,  the  rocking  of  the  train  settled  you  back  to  sleep.  A  sleep  you  knew  wouldn’t  last  incredibly  long.  Eventually  the  cold  would  become  too  much.  Until  that  point  came,  you’d  sleep  as  long  as  possible.</p><p>By  this  point  in  your  life,  the  rocking  of  the  train  was  something  that  was  a  comfort,  it  was  familiar.  You’d  been  on  the  train  almost  as  long  as  you  hadn’t  before  and  you  suspected,  you’d  be  spending  the  rest  of  your  life  in  the  tail-end.</p><p>Coldness  never  woke  you  up.</p><p>It  was  always  cold  in  the  tail-end.  Always.  Everyone  was  always  bundled  up.  You  always  had  your  coat  and  scarf  and  a  pair  of  gloves  in  your  pockets  for  when  your  hands  couldn’t  take  it  anymore.  Sometimes  you  would  put  your  gloves  in  your  shoes  to  help  keep  your  toes  warm.</p><p>Coldness  never  seeped  down  past  your  layers  to  settle  on  your  skin,  or  further  down  to  your  bones.</p><p>Coldness  never  came.</p><p>If  possible,  a  warmth  seemed  to  settle  in  with  you  in  your  bunk.  </p><p>A  familiar  warmth.</p><p>As  you  were  slowly  released  from  the  claws  of  sleep,  familiar  sensations  brought  you  to  consciousness.  A  familiar  heavy  weight  curled  against  the  front  of  you.  A  familiar  soft  knit  rested  against  your  face.  A  smell  of  someone  you  knew  forever  it  seemed  filled  your  nose.  Fingers  ran  up  along  your  back  in  a  familiar  trailing  motion.</p><p>Curtis.</p><p>Long  legs  were  tangled  with  yours  and  as  you  became  more  awake  than  not,  you  could  feel  him  breathe  on  the  top  of  your  head.  </p><p>Curtis  had  been  on  the  train  as  long  as  you.  He’d  been  on  the  train  when  there  was  hope  and  then  when  there  was  none  and  now.  Whatever  now  was,  because  you  didn’t  know.  Now  was  just  existing.  Getting  day  to  day.  </p><p>“It’s  gonna  be  today.  I  can  feel  it.”  His  voice  gravelly  from  it  being  morning,  or  maybe  he  too  was  tired.</p><p>He  was  so  warm  against  you.  Both  of  you  sharing  what  body  heat  you  could  together.</p><p>Curtis  slipping  into  your  bunk  was  not  unusual.  Nor  was  it  unwanted.  You  loved  when  Curtis  would  come  into  your  bunk,  when  he’d  sleep  curled  up  with  you.  You  loved  when  he  held  you  and  touched  you  and  had  convinced  yourself  that  it  was  enough.  This  was  enough.  </p><p>“Don’t  say  that,”  you  whispered  back  into  his  chest,  inching  even  closer  if  it  were  possible,  scooting  against  him.  The  wall  of  his  chest  blocked  out  any  artificial  light  that  could  come  in.  Allowing  you  both  some  privacy.  Or  the  illusion  of  it.</p><p>Fingertips  ran  up  your  back  and  down,  soothingly,  rubbing  you,  touching  you.  Holding  you.  Such  basic  contact  would  fill  you  up  and  make  everything  bearable,  top  you  off  metaphorically  speaking.</p><p>“Edgar  thinks  so  to.  Andrew  agrees.  Today  is  the  day.”</p><p>Even  the  way  he  spoke  to  you.  Gave  you  his  full  attention.  It  was  like  you  were  being  rewarded  for  all  the  hell  that  filled  your  days.</p><p>All  you  needed  to  do  was  say  it.  Tell  Curtis  how  you  really  felt,  what  you  really  wanted.  He  had  made  it  so  clear  that  he  wanted  you.  He’d  made  it  abundantly  clear  that  he  wanted  a  physical  relationship.</p><p>You  lied.</p><p>You  were  a  liar.</p><p>
  <em>I  don’t  feel  that  way,  I’m  sorry  Curtis.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Curtis  you’re  such  a  good  friend,  I  don’t  want  to  risk  that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I  love  you  but  I  don’t  want  sex.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I  can’t,  I’m  sorry,  I’m  not  looking  to  be  in  a  sexual  relationship  in  this  situation.</em>
</p><p>Each  time  you  said  those  lies  to  him,  or  one  in  that  vein,  a  little  part  of  you  was  chipped  away.  A  small  part  of  you  dimmed  whenever  you  lied  to  him  and  had  to  see  that  look  on  his  face.  </p><p>But  then,  the  thought  of  losing  him  arose  and  it  was  unthinkable.  Worse  yet  was  when  you  imagined  what  a  physical  relationship  with  Curtis  would  be  like  and  a  cold  terror  would  seize  you  at  the  notion  of  falling  pregnant.  No.  It  could  never  happen.  You  could  never  have  Curtis’s  baby  and  have  it  ripped  away  by  the  front.</p><p>One  of  these  days  Curtis  would  notice  one  of  the  other  women.  One  of  these  days  he’d  go  climb  into  their  bunk  like  he  had  with  yours  for  so  long  now.  A  decade?  More?  He  had  to  take  interest  in  another  eventually.  You  knew  he  wasn’t  a  virgin.  But  you  also  knew  it’d  been  a  very  long  time  since  he’d  been  intimate  with  anyone  and  you,  you  were  simply  too  scared.</p><p>“Don’t  say  it.  It  can’t  be  today.  It’s  too  cold  and  I  think  it’s  still  too  early.”  You  told  him,  sounding  tired.  You  were  so  exhausted  lately.  Curtis  didn’t  know  what  to  do,  or  why  you  were  so  tired.  That  you’d  been  sleeping  so  deep  when  he  slipped  into  your  bunk  did  not  make  him  happy.  Happy  not  being  a  frequent  emotion  that  he  was  familiar  with,  but  you  made  his  days  bearable,  you  brought  a  light  to  his  days,  a  washing  away  of  the  shit  that  everything  was  these  days.  </p><p>He’d  asked  around.  No  one  knew  for  sure.  </p><p>He  was  beginning  to  suspect  your  cycle  was  finally  swinging  back.  Not  that  you’d  ever  said.  Nor  would  Tanya  ever  share  those  details  with  him.  But  he  noticed.  You  missed  your  previous  five  or  six  periods.  Some  women  in  the  tail-end  did.  Food  wasn’t  always  plentiful  and  you  were  known  to  share  or  give  yours  to  others.  Stress  never  helped.  Life  was  hard  back  here.  And  he  knew  for  a  fact  that  you  weren’t  having  sex  with  anyone.  Everyone  with  a  dick  knew  to  keep  their  fucking  hands  off  you.  He’d  made  that  abundantly  clear.  You  were  his.  You  belonged  to  him.  Eventually  you’d  come  around,  get  over  the  fears  you  were  hanging  onto  and  see  that  the  two  of  you  were  perfect  for  one  another,  that  no  one  would  love  you  as  much  as  him  and  until  that  day  came,  Curtis  could  wait.</p><p>Curtis  could  be  satisfied  with  your  smiles,  your  attention,  your  touches  and  closeness  for  now. </p><p>In  his  pants  he  was  hard.</p><p>That  was  nothing  new.  Whenever  you  were  in  his  arms  or  touching  him,  his  dick  was  acutely  aware  of  you.</p><p>You  were  so  small  against  him.  So  soft.  So  perfect  against  him  like  you  were  made  only  for  him.</p><p>A  heavy  rattling  shook  the  car  that  he  barely  noticed.  Here,  in  the  bunk  with  you,  Curtis  was  far  away.  Savoring  the  feeling  of  you  folding  your  hands  together  so  you  could  rest  them  against  his  stomach,  nuzzle  your  face  against  his  sweater.</p><p>“Quit  worrying  about  it.  Tanya’s  baby  is  more  than  ready.  We’ve  all  been  counting  the  days,”  he  told  the  top  of  your  head.</p><p>An  unimpressed  snort  came  from  you.  “Says  someone  without  a  uterus.  You  don’t  have  to  worry  about  these  things.”</p><p>Little  remarks  like  those  were  as  good  as  writing  on  the  train  walls,  a  slap  to  his  face,  hundreds  of  little  breadcrumbs  sprinkled  around  at  his  feet.  It  wasn’t  like  he  didn’t  know  your  biggest  fears.  They  were  everyone’s  biggest  fears.  Loss  of  someone  in  the  tails  squalor  or  worse,  to  the  front.</p><p>Curtis  shifted.  Legs  pulling  your  own  tighter  against  him.  Fingers  along  your  back  turned  into  palms  that  pulled  you  closer.</p><p>You  had  every  right  to  be  terrified  in  his  opinion.  </p><p>The  amount  of  risk  assumed  when  two  people  came  together  in  the  tail-end  was  exponential.  Risk  of  pregnancy  ending  badly,  risk  of  losing  the  mother  and  child  were  high.  If  they  both  survived  the  risk  for  seizure  of  the  child  was  great,  till  they  outgrew  the  front’s  usefulness  for  them.  You’d  watched  your  mother  die  in  childbirth.  You’d  watched  your  brother  get  taken  up  front.  Your  father  had  shortly  after  taken  his  own  life.  Not  that  your  loss  was  special.  It  was  par  for  the  course  in  the  tail  section.  Curtis’s  own  story  was  no  less  tragic.  No  one  in  the  back  had  a  life  story  without  tragedy.</p><p>“No.  I  would  just  have  to  worry  about  losing  my  entire  world.”</p><p>What  was  life  without  risk?</p><p>It  could  be  so  good  between  you  two,  he  knew  it.  Pleasures  of  the  flesh  with  other  passengers  to  release  pressure,  to  feel  good  or  get  lost  in  a  moment  away  from  the  train  had  been  good,  some  were  even  great.  To  share  that  with  you?  With  someone  who  he  loved?  The  things  that  he  wanted  to  do  to  you,  with  you,  on  you,  inside  of  you.  They  were  unlimited.  He  would  make  you  both  feel  so  good  if  you’d  only  let  him.  He’d  take  such  good  care  of  you.  </p><p>Curtis  could  prove  that  your  connection  would  only  be  made  better  with  the  addition  of  carnal  physicality  between  you.</p><p>If  the  feeling  of  his  erection  pressed  against  the  inside  of  your  thigh  bothered  you,  you  never  gave  him  any  indication.  </p><p>Privacy  was  nonexistent.  Bodies  and  their  functions  were  hardly  a  mystery.  Curtis  could  never  tell  if  it  being  a  part  of  human  nature  was  why,  or  if  you  were  just  as  desperate  for  physical  connection  as  him  and  the  feeling  of  it  was  something  you’d  come  to  accept,  like  his  decision  to  grow  a  beard  of  recently.  Or  how  everyone  had  grown  accustomed  to  the  smell  of  close  quartered  living  with  poor  sanitation.</p><p>Feeling  you  so  close,  on  his  manhood,  with  nothing  but  layers  of  fabric  separating  you  both  was  a  special  kind  of  hell.  Followed  by  the  slide  of  your  smaller  hand  slipping  over  his  waist.  Any  touch  he  would  greedily  take  from  you.  Unconcerned  with  how  you  justified  it  to  yourself.  Curtis  didn’t  care.  He’d  convince  you  soon  enough  and  until  then,  he  could  be  as  patient  as  you  needed  him  to  be.</p><p> </p><p>						***</p><p> </p><p>Edgar  moved  the  little  round  piece  across  a  gash  carved  into  the  floor  at  his  turn  while  Curtis  watched  the  flurry  of  activity  within  the  cramped  cart.</p><p>Even  though  there  was  little  to  do,  it  was  always  hectic,  like  a  bee’s  hive.  Of  which  Edgar  had  never  seen  and  probably  would  never  see.  Having  been  born  on  the  train,  spent  his  entire  life  thus  far  on  the  train  and  very  well  would  probably  never  leave  the  train  at  this  rate.</p><p>“What  are  we  going  to  do  when  she  starts  having  the  baby?”</p><p>Edgar’s  quiet  question  left  Curtis  considering  the  past  few  days,  as  talk  among  the  women  around  changed.  </p><p>It  had  all  been  subtle.</p><p>If  he  hadn’t  been  paying  attention,  he  never  would  have  noticed.</p><p>With  the  tail-end’s  midwife  having  passed  away  recently,  that  left  only  the  untrained  and  a  handful  of  women  who  had  given  birth  and  lived  to  get  Tanya  through  her  childbirth.  Over  the  past  few  days  he’d  heard  the  whispering.  </p><p>
  <em>Tanya’s  carrying  lower.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The  baby  is  dropping.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hopefully  it’s  not  breech.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s  getting  more  restless.  I  was  the  same  way  when  I  had  mine.  I  couldn’t  sit  still.</em>
</p><p>Curtis  had  seen  the  activity  change.  Rags  were  collected  that  no  one  wanted  or  needed.  Tanya’s  bunk  had  been  torn  apart,  put  back  together  and  fixed  in  a  way  that  none  of   the  women  were  happy  with,  so  it  had  to  be  done  several  times.  </p><p>The  younger  man  then  nudged  him  with  an  elbow.  Letting  Curtis  know  that  it  was  his  turn  to  move  on  the  makeshift  game  that  had  been  carved  into  the  floor,  pieces  made  of  metal  had  been  collected  over  the  years  set  out.</p><p>“We’ll  do  what  we  can,”  Curtis  answered,  finally  looking  away  from  Tanya  to  see  the  pieces  down  on  the  metal  floor  between  the  two  men.  “Whatever  they  need.”</p><p>On  and  off  that  day,  Tanya  had  walked  from  car  to  car,  up  and  down,  hands  pressed  into  her  back.  Not  in  pain.  Everyone  had  asked.  Not  in  pain,  Tanya  had  assured  them.  She  needed  to  walk.  She  was  stiff,  she  was  uncomfortable,  she  needed  to  be  up  and  moving  and  doing  something,  her  baby  was  moving  around  something  crazy.</p><p>Knowing  looks  were  passed  between  the  women.</p><p>A  whole  mood  had  descended  over  the  tail-end.</p><p>“Oh  good.  You  two  aren’t  doing  anything  productive.”</p><p>Both  men  looked  up  as  you  approached.  Arms  full  of  old  worn  and  tattered  clothing.  A  small  tin  in  one  hand.  Your  other  reached  out  as  you  turned  to  plop  down  between  Edgar  and  Curtis,  taking  a  seat  directly  on  their  game.</p><p>The  calloused  warm  hand  that  grasped  your  own  as  you  lowered  yourself  down,  guiding  you  in,  without  a  doubt  belonged  to  Curtis.</p><p>“Well  actually,  we…”  Edgar  began  so  amusingly.  So  adorably.  He  never  failed  to  just  fill  your  heart  with  affection  from  the  things  that  came  out  of  his  mouth.  As  he  was  about  to  explain  that  he  and  Curtis  had  been  playing  chess  when  you  sat  down  on  the  communal  floor  board,  he  took  in  the  arch  of  your  eyebrow  and  fell  silent.  “Nothing.  We  weren’t  doing  anything.”</p><p>As  you  suspected.</p><p>It  was  so  adorable  when  he  tried  his  darnedest  to  assert  some  of  that  masculine  dominance  that  surged  through  his  young  hormone  filled  veins.  It  really  was.  Not  that  you  had  any  sort  of  issue  with  Edgar.  In  fact,  he  was  around  the  age  that  your  own  brother  would  have  been  if  he  would  have  been  here  now,  wherever  your  brother  was,  if  he  was  even  alive.  You  hoped  he’d  been  given  to  a  front-ender  who  wanted  a  baby.  Never  would  you  say  those  words  out  loud.  It  was  just  a  hope  you  had  that  your  brother  was  loved,  cared  for,  had  a  better  life  than  you.</p><p>Next  you  turned  to  Curtis,  who  had  less  of  an  issue  looking  you  in  the  eye  with  masculine  energy.  Not  moving.  Arms  resting  on  his  knees  as  he  leaned  back  against  the  metal  vibrating  wall.</p><p>“What  do  you  need?”</p><p>Those  were  exactly  the  words  you  wanted  to  hear.</p><p>In  your  lap,  you  dug  at  the  old  clothing  that  was  no  longer  wearable.  “I’ve  been  tasked  with  making  a  baby  blanket  with  all  of  these.  I  need  someone  to  cut  some  of  these  up  in  small  strips.”  A  distance  was  made  between  your  fingers  in  display.  “And  I  need  someone  else  to  poke  holes  along  the  edges  of  these  when  I  get  done  trimming  and  halving  them.”</p><p>Having  assisted  with  this  task  prior,  Curtis  took  up  the  latter  task  while  you  gave  Edgar  specific  instructions  on  how  wide  and  long  you  needed  the  strips  to  be  out  of  the  rags.</p><p>With  care  you  opened  up  the  little  tin.  A  communal  makeshift  sewing  kit.  Inside  was  a  little  knife  that  you  handed  over  to  Edgar,  which  was  no  more  than  a  sharpened  hunk  of  metal.  Then  you  set  about  showing  him  how  to  cut  the  rags  to  avoid  as  much  fraying  as  possible,  plus  to  get  the  size  you  wanted  for  the  bindings.</p><p>Beside  you,  you  could  feel  Curtis  shifting  around  and  heard  sound  of  a  knife  cutting  through  cloth.  </p><p>Your  thigh  was  pressed  against  his  as  you  instructed  Edgar,  that  physical  connection  with  Curtis  grounding  in  the  dim  cart  that  was  always  moving,  jumping,  swaying,  always  in  some  degree  of  motion.  </p><p>It  was  not  long  before  Edgar  got  it.  He  was  quick  to  pick  up  on  things  and  that  allowed  you  to  sort  through  the  pile  of  clothes  you’d  been  given  to  cut  up  then  halve,  in  order  to  knot  them  together  with  the  strips.  You  let  out  a  relieved  breath  then  grabbed  a  shirt  from  the  pile  in  your  lap.  In  your  coat  was  a  small  knife  that  Curtis  had  made  you  ages  ago.  </p><p>Off  first  came  the  sleeves.  Then  you  cut  the  top  and  sides  open.</p><p>“What’s  a  breech?”</p><p>Edgar’s  question  surprised  you.  As  you  were  more  focused  on  your  work  and  getting  closer  to  Curtis  for  some  of  that  body  heat  he  was  putting  off.  No  matter  how  many  layers  you  wore,  you  were  never  warm.  As  close  as  you  dared  anyway,  what  with  the  two  of  you  slicing  open  clothes.</p><p>Edgar’s  question  made  you  glance  over  at  him  for  a  second,  before  returning  back  to  your  work.  “Hmmm?”</p><p>He  said  the  words  so  calmly.  Curiously.  A  hint  of  what  could  have  been  a  fleeting  accent  on  certain  words,  at  certain  points,  that  he  picked  up  from  the  collection  of  people  in  the  tail-end.  “Breech.  Ruth  and  Satomi  were  talking  about  it.  What  is  it?”</p><p>Your  attention  remained  on  your  task.</p><p>Breech.</p><p>It  was  terrifying.</p><p>So  far,  none  of  the  babies  born  on  Snowpiercer,  back  in  the  end  anyway,  had  been  born  breech.  You’d  seen  it  firsthand  though.  Growing  up  on  a  farm  for  your  first  fourteen  years,  until  everything  changed,  had  allowed  you  to  witness  and  help  deliver  more  than  your  share  of  calves,  foals,  piglets,  puppies.  </p><p>“It’s  when  the  baby  comes  out  butt  first,”  was  your  response.  “We  want  Tanya’s  baby  to  be  facing  head  down.”</p><p>With  a  nod  of  understanding,  Edgar  went  back  to  his  task,  focusing  in  order  to  not  cut  himself  with  the  sewing  kit  knife.</p><p>You  did  the  same.  Folded  your  legs  beneath  yourself  and  with  a  sigh,  rubbed  your  hands  together  then  leaned  against  Curtis  for  some  more  of  that  warmth  he  put  off.  Getting  back  to  work  on  the  blanket.  Trying  your  very  best  to  ignore  the  slow  but  steady  twisting  of  pain  deep  in  your  core  that  could  only  mean  one  thing.  Something  you  really  did  not  want.  </p><p>For  the  past  few  months,  your  period  had  been  blissfully  absent.  Giving  you  a  hope  for  a  change  of  things  with  Curtis.  Every  month  that  passed  was  a  loosening  of  the  iron  bars  that  wrapped  around  you,  strangling  you,  killing  you  slowly  with  the  pain  of  want.  </p><p>Every  month  that  passed  without  your  period  was  more  hope.</p><p>If  it  kept  up,  you  would  tell  him  soon.  If  it  was  for  certain  that  the  risk  was  gone,  you’d  share  your  relief  with  Curtis.</p><p>Inwardly  you  hoped  against  all  hope  that  it  was  an  upset  stomach.  Bad  water.  Poor  conditions.  Something  like  that  which  had  made  your  body  tired  and  tender.</p><p> </p><p>						***</p><p> </p><p>Such  hopes  died  a  horrible  and  tragic  death  some  time  later,  when  you  went  to  relieve  yourself  in  the  little  private  curtained  area  for  the  women.  You  always  made  sure  to  do  your  business  as  fast  as  you  could,  to  spend  less  time  behind  the  dirty  curtain.  At  least  the  ladies  latrine  had  a  curtain.  From  what  you  heard,  the  guys  didn’t,  which  sounded  worse  than  anything  you  could  imagine.</p><p>Still  though,  the  sight  of  something  wet  and  dark  on  the  inside  of  your  thigh  was  enough  to  knock  you  out  of  your  surroundings.  </p><p>Deep  down  you  knew.  </p><p>You’d  known  when  you  stood  after  finishing  the  blanket,  a  warm  wetness  seeped  down  your  thigh  and  you  knew  what  it  was.  Still…you’d  hoped.  You’d  hoped  so  hard.</p><p>You  hadn’t  realized  how  hard,  until  you  felt  hot  tears  streak  down  your  face.</p><p>A  sob  shuddered  through  you,  one  that  you  tried  to  silence  with  a  hand  over  your  mouth.  Tried  to  prevent  entirely.  Although  it  seemed  another  part  of  you  had  other  ideas.</p><p>Out  it  escaped.</p><p>In  a  rush.  A  powerful  exhale  came  out  through  your  nose,  fingers  dug  into  your  cheeks  to  silence  you.  Hot  rivers  of  tears  burnt  down  your  face  as  you  gasped  and  your  head  spun,  as  heat  consumed  you  in  the  knowledge  that  it  still  was  not  safe  for  you  and  Curtis  because  of  this,  because  of  your  body.</p><p>How  could  your  body  do  this  to  you?</p><p>Why  couldn’t  your  periods  just  go  away  forever  and  leave  you  in  peace?</p><p>Why…</p><p>A  hand  reached  in,  pulled  the  curtain  aside  and  you  were  greeted  to  the  sight  of  Tanya.</p><p>“Oh!”</p><p>She  was,  perhaps,  as  equally  surprised  to  see  you  as  you  were  to  see  her  and  the  two  of  you  stood,  quiet,  facing  one  another  for  a  moment.  Tanya  looked  you  over  with  hands  on  her  unborn  child,  while  your  hand  that  had  covered  your  mouth  quickly  went  to  work  wiping  your  face  clean  of  tears.  Both  hands  roughly  dried  your  face  and  fixed  your  clothes  so  you  were  presentable.  Or  as  presentable  as  you  were  going  to  get.</p><p>“Oh  sweetie…”  she  breathed,  after  she  had  that  moment  to  take  you  in.</p><p>It  came  out.</p><p>It  just  spilled  right  out  of  you.</p><p>“My  period…it  came…”  and  then  once  more,  you  shook,  wet  fire  burnt  your  eyes  and  your  hands  went  to  your  mouth.</p><p>Tanya  knew.  She  knew  about  your  family  and  your  fears  and  your  deepest  darkest  hopes.  Tanya  knew  what  it  meant  for  you.  She  stepped  up  to  you  and  wrapped  her  arms  around  you,  pulled  you  close  to  her  and  held  you.  </p><p>Out  it  came.  You  wept  into  Tanya’s  shoulder.  You  let  it  all  out.  Full  body  sobs  shook  you  as  you  sobbed  into  her  and  she  held  you,  rocked  you,  smoothed  her  hand  over  the  top  of  your  head,  whispering  soft  soothing  things  to  you.</p><p> </p><p>						***</p><p> </p><p>Miserable.</p><p>You  were  utterly  miserable.</p><p>Your  head  pounded  from  your  little  meltdown.  Your  body  was  wracked  with  cramps,  muscle  spasms  went  off  deep  in  your  back,  not  allowing  you  to  be  comfortable  standing  or  sitting  or  flat  on  your  bunk.  </p><p>When  it  was  time  to  line  up  and  get  your  protein  bar,  you  couldn’t  stand  the  smell  of  it,  forget  eat  it.  Just  the  sight  of  it  made  you  nauseous.  Which  led  to  you  breaking  the  bar  in  half  and  giving  half  to  Tanya.  Claiming  you’d  eaten  the  other  half  and  that  you  weren’t  too  hungry.  She  knew  you  never  were  on  your  first  day.  If  she  suspected  that  you  were  lying,  she  let  it  slide.</p><p>After,  it  wasn’t  hard  to  slip  away  in  the  huddle  of  people  who’d  come  out  to  get  their  bar  and  put  the  other  half  in  the  tin  box  that  Tanya  had  in  her  bunk  with  the  others.</p><p>It  wasn’t  hard  to  find  it.  </p><p>Shoved  up  against  the  wall  and  hidden  beneath  blankets.  </p><p>Food  was  always  eaten  up  quick.  If  it  was  hidden,  someone  would  always  find  it  and  not  one  person  could  blame  another  person.  Not  after  what  you  all  had  been  through  in  the  early  days.</p><p>However,  an  exception  was  made  for  pregnant  woman.  Gilliam  had  made  a  rule  about  it  and  got  everyone  to  agree.  Towards  the  end  of  a  pregnancy,  the  keeping  of  food  in  a  little  box  to  prepare  for  after  birth  when  the  mother  needed  to  build  her  strength  was  not  to  be  touched.  Everyone  had  agreed.  No  one  wanted  to  lose  another  mother,  or  mother  and  child  due  to  malnutrition.  </p><p>It  was  so  obvious  to  you,  as  you  placed  the  other  half  of  your  bar  into  the  tin  which  was  almost  full.  Half  of  the  dark  brown,  nearly  blackish  bars.  Thirds.  Pieces  in  various  sizes  filled  the  box.  It  seemed  you  weren’t  the  only  tail-ender  adding  to  the  box.</p><p>A  small  smile  formed  on  your  face  and  you  closed  the  tin.  Then  pushed  it  back  where  Tanya  had  been  hiding  her  box.  Covering  it  up  with  the  blankets  Tanya  had  been  collecting  and  making  and  given  for  the  birth  and  afterwards.  The  blanket  that  you  and  Edgar  and  Curtis  had  made  was  folded  neatly  on  the  top.</p><p>Once  everything  was  placed  back  where  it  was  supposed  to  be,  you  scooted  backwards  out  of  Tanya’s  bunk.</p><p>Hands  fell  on  you.  Fingers  dug  in  the  V  where  your  hips  met  your  pelvis  and  with  a  squeak  from  you,  you  were  yanked  clear  out.</p><p>Your  heart  pounded  violently  in  your  chest.</p><p>And  for  a  second,  you  weren’t  in  the  back  end  of  a  train  powering  through  a  frozen  wasteland.  You  didn’t  notice  the  cold.  You  hardly  noticed  the  dark.  Forget  your  cramps.</p><p>Hands  manhandled  you  upright.  Strong  hands  spun  you  around  to  push  you  against  the  bunks.  </p><p>Pounding.  Pounding.  Heart  pounding  so  violently  in  your  chest.  </p><p>Gasping.</p><p>You  looked  up  in  Curtis’s  scowling  face.  Pressed  up  against  the  bunks.  Shoved  there  between  Curtis’s  body  and  that  hard  surface.  He  was  so  hard  against  you.  So  tall.  Big.  Curtis  was  so  big.  Unable  to  help  yourself.  You  reached  up  and  rested  your  palm  on  his  chest.</p><p>“What  did  I  tell  you?”</p><p>He  leaned  down  to  hiss  at  you,  snarl.  Eyes  glittering  with  an  anger  that  was  not  unfamiliar.  The  fire  in  his  tone  made  a  few  people  turn  to  go  in  the  opposite  direction,  or  sink  deeper  into  their  bunks.</p><p>Not  you  though.</p><p>Your  fingers  gripped  his  shirt  to  ground  yourself.  Pushing  up  to  close  the  little  bit  of  distance  between  you  both,  till  your  chest  pressed  into  the  broad  expanse  of  his,  both  of  you  covered  with  so  many  layers.  Sometimes  you  wondered  what  his  chest  looked  like?  What  did  he  look  like  undressed?  What  did  Curtis’s  body  look  like?  You  knew  what  the  male  form  looked  like,  had  seen  your  fair  share  of  it.  Just  never  his  body.</p><p>“I’m  not  hungry,”  was  your  honest  response.</p><p>“I  don’t  care,”  came  from  Curtis.  “You  know  the  rules.”</p><p>Did  you  ever.</p><p>Hearing  those  words  come  from  his  mouth  made  your  gut  twist.  Those  words  made  you  push  up  against  him  even  more  so.  Pushed  until  your  nose  brushed  up  to  his.  “Not  today.  Don’t  start  with  me  today.”</p><p>Back  at  you  he  pushed.  You’d  been  so  good  at  following  his  rules,  doing  what  he  asked  of  you.</p><p>
  <em>Eat  every  day  for  me.</em>
</p><p><em>Sleep  alone  or  with  me.</em>  </p><p>Sleeping  with  the  handful  of  single  or  widowed  women  for  warmth  didn’t  seem  to  count.  So  long  as  it  wasn’t  a  man.</p><p>
  <em>Tell  me  if  anyone  bothers  you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Talk  to  me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t  touch  anyone  else  but  me.</em>
</p><p>All  those  rules  you’d  followed  so  well  for  so  long  now.  Up  until  today.  Today  you’d  broken  two  of  them.  Curtis  shoved  his  body  into  you  hard  enough  to  push  some  air  from  your  lungs.  “Is  there  something  you  want  to  tell  me?”</p><p>It  spilled  out  of  you.</p><p>Spewing  from  your  lips  like  some  sort  of  poison  that  you  had  to  expel  from  your  body  in  the  dim  space.  “I  got  my  period.”</p><p>Curtis  wasn’t  surprised.  Hell,  he  half  expected  it.  Not  that  your  honesty  made  him  any  less  irritated.  If  anything,  it  fueled  him  on.  “That  doesn’t  mean  anything.  It  doesn’t  change  anything!”</p><p>Reaching  up,  you  smoothed  both  of  your  hands  over  Curtis’s  face.  Savoring  the  feeling  of  his  beard  beneath  your  palms.  To  him,  it  felt  so  much  like  you  were  memorizing  him.  As  if  preparing  to  say  goodbye  or  some  shit.</p><p>“No,”  he  told  you,  commanded  really.  Taking  your  hands  and  pulling  them  away,  Curtis  pushed  his  face  to  yours.  Took  your  mouth  in  his,  in  something  that  was  and  was  not  a  kiss.  Soft  beard  tickling  your  face  as  his  lips  brushed  over  yours,  tugged  on  your  bottom  lip.  His  tongue  brushed  against  your  own.  All  you  could  taste  and  smell  was  Curtis.  He  stole  you  away  from  the  tail-end  and  the  dark  and  all  the  hell  you  all  had  to  endure  that  day.</p><p>Reaching  back  up,  you  took  his  worn  coat  in  your  hands.  Pulled  him  even  closer  by  that  coat.</p><p>Moments  like  these  used  to  be  rare.  Infrequent.  Something  that  seemed  so  common  had  little  appeal  to  you.  A  kiss  was  only  a  kiss,  nothing  special.  Parents  kissed  their  children,  children  kissed  their  toys,  friends  shared  a  peck  on  the  cheek.  A  touch  of  lips  was  nothing  more.</p><p>God  above  was  it  something  more.</p><p>How  could  you  have  been  so  wrong?</p><p>Curtis  could  make  you  want  to  crawl  up  in  his  body  in  the  way  he  kissed  you.  With  every  passing  day,  it  felt  as  if  he  were  trying  to  fuck  you  senseless  with  his  tongue,  until  you  gave  in.  He  made  it  so  tempting.  He  made  you  want  to  throw  up  your  hands  and  throw  caution  to  the  wind,  like  he  so  desperately  wanted  for  you  both.</p><p>“It’s  ok.”  Curtis  ground  out  against  you  mouth.  Then  cheek.  He  pressed  his  wet  lips  to  your  cheek.  Again.  Again.  Again.  All  the  way  to  your  ear.  “This  is  ok.  We’ll  figure  it  out.  I  know  what  you’re  thinking.  Don’t.”</p><p>Words.</p><p>His  words  were  so  tempting.  Alluring  even.</p><p>You  looked  up  into  his  face.  Up  into  his  piercing  eyes  and  strong  nose.  Up  at  that  swell  of  his  bottom  lip  that  was  moist  and  his  dark  beard.  His  mouth.  You  stared  at  that  mouth.  </p><p>Then  to  your  utter  and  absolute  horror,  Curtis  brandished  a  gelatinous  lump.  Half  of  one  anyway.</p><p>“I’m  not  going  anywhere  till  you  eat  this.  You  need  to  eat  this.  I  ate  half.  You  eat  half.”</p><p> </p><p>						***</p><p> </p><p>Forty-two  days  ago,  you’d  told  Curtis  he  couldn’t  stay  the  night  in  your  bunk  anymore.  You’d  told  him  he’d  have  to  sleep  somewhere  else  because  his  snoring  was  driving  you  crazy.</p><p>Curtis  knew  he  didn’t  snore.</p><p>Curtis  knew  the  real  reason  why  you’d  thrown  him  out  and  at  the  time,  he’d  been  so  surprised  by  what  had  happened,  he  agreed.  </p><p>It  was  a  big  regret.</p><p>He  should  have  talked  it  through  with  you.</p><p>What  had  happened  was  normal.  What  had  happened  to  you  happened  to  him  and  he  should  have  been  honest,  he  should  have  told  you  he’d  seen  it,  he  should  have  assured  you  that  there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of.</p><p>What  happened  had  surprised  him  and  he  hadn’t  been  prepared.</p><p>Now…now,  if  he  ever  had  the  chance  to  do  it  again,  he’d  do  it  differently.  Having  had  time  to  think  about  it,  he  would  do  it  all  differently.</p><p>He’d  taken  the  bunk  above  Edgar  all  the  way  on  the  other  end,  which  felt  an  eternity  away.</p><p>Not  that  night  though.</p><p>Nope.</p><p>Curtis  could  not  do  it  and  as  everyone  began  to  get  into  their  bunks,  he  was  walking  down  to  where  you  and  Tanya  slept,  mind  set  and  on  a  mission.  Having  seen  Matteo  in  Edgar’s  bunk,  he  wished  the  both  of  them  a  good  successful  evening,  then  grabbed  a  pillow  and  set  off.  Unable  to  listen  to  a  fifth  night  in  a  row  of  the  two  of  them  discovering  one  another’s  bodies.</p><p>Now  Curtis  was  thrilled  for  Edgar.  He  was  happy  that  his  younger  friend  had  connected  with  someone  and  had  advanced  to  a  part  of  their  relationship  where  they  were  physically  intimate.  What  the  two  young  men  were  not,  happened  to  be,  quiet.</p><p>For  hours  and  hours  and  hours  the  two  would  explore  and  after  the  past  four  nights,  he  knew  for  a  solid  fact,  tonight  was  the  big  night.</p><p>Tonight.  Penetration.</p><p>Three  sets  of  eyes  looked  Curtis  over  with  interest  when  he  came  to  a  stop  in  the  aisle  space  between  your  and  Tanya’s  bunks.  People  pushed  by  him  as  they  moved  around  in  their  nightly  routine,  while  the  dim  lights  were  still  on.</p><p>“I  need  to  spend  tonight  down  here.”</p><p>Curtis  looked  from  Tanya,  to  you  and  back  to  Tanya.</p><p>You  were  already  in  your  bunk  while  Tanya  and  Satomi  sat  on  her  bunk,  Satomi  braiding  Tanya’s  hair  while  the  discussion  of  baby  names  went  between  both  women.  You  were  focused  on  your  mission.  Cramps.  You’d  rolled  up  your  bedding  tight  and  were  flat  on  your  front,  your  rolled-up  cushion  jammed  underneath  your  abdomen,  where  you  pressed  all  your  weight  down.  A  tried  and  true  method  to  get  your  excruciatingly  painful  spasming  reproductive  organ  under  control,  or  at  the  very  least,  down  to  a  bearable  level  of  moderate  to  mild  pain.</p><p>“Why’s  that  Curtis?”  Tanya  inquired  good  naturedly,  her  usual  self,  a  broad  smile  on  her  face  while  the  silver  haired  Satomi,  eldest  woman  on  the  train,  hummed  contentedly  to  herself  as  she  braided.</p><p>Several  little  kids  ran  past  him.  </p><p>Sounds  of  their  mom  shouting  after  them  followed.</p><p>“Edgar  and  Matteo…”</p><p>You,  Tanya  and  even  Satomi  made  soft,  happy,  pleased  noises  at  mention  of  the  two  young  lovers.  None  of  your  noises  made  him  change  his  mind.</p><p>“<em>They’re  so  cute  together.</em>”  Satomi  murmured.</p><p>“That  they  are,”  Tanya  agreed.</p><p>“If  they’re  so  cute,  why  don’t  one  of  you  three  go  down  there  and  sleep  on  my  bunk?  I’ll  sleep  on  yours  Tanya?”  Curtis  suggested.</p><p>A  look  came  over  Tanya’s  face.  Satomi  laughed  softly.</p><p>Finally,  you  chimed  in.  “I’m  already  not  getting  a  good  nights’  sleep  tonight.  I  have  no  desire  to  listen  to  those  two  discover  the  magic  of  anal  sex.”</p><p>Satomi  made  a  noise  as  she  examined  her  work.</p><p>“Did  you  tell  them  what  I  told  you  about  the  grease  from  the  bearings?”  Tanya  wanted  to  know.</p><p>Clearly  it  was  no  better  over  here.</p><p>Neither  Tanya  or  Satomi  were  showing  signs  of  moving,  which  led  to  Curtis  pulling  the  trigger  and  climbing  into  your  bunk  and  over  your  legs,  to  get  in  past  you  and  against  the  wall.  Earning  a  dirty  look  from  you  as  you  told  Tanya,  “Of  course  I  did.  I  also  told  them  not  to  engage  in  fellatio  after  anal.  So,  your  welcome.”  Your  attention  then  turned  on  Curtis.</p><p>Already  prepared  as  the  lights  in  the  car  dimmed  even  more  before  the  final  last  dimming,  Curtis  told  you.  “Wake  me  up  if  I  start  snoring.”  He  then  tossed  around  in  the  space  beside  you.  Shoved  his  long  legs  beneath  your  blanket  and  scooted  down,  in  an  attempt  to  get  comfortable.  In  the  dim  dim  light,  Curtis  could  see  you  make  a  face  of  displeasure  at  him.  He  didn’t  care.  </p><p>A  rattling  vibrated  the  tail-end  that  no  one  was  surprised  by  and  had  you  not  even  reaching  to  steady  yourself.  No.  You  were  on  your  front  anyway.  Leading  you  to  glare  at  him  in  the  near  darkness  of  your  bunk.  </p><p>Curtis  took  your  chin  between  his  fingers.  He  leaned  forward  to  press  his  mouth  to  yours.  Quickly.  Softly.  A  brush  of  lips  and  beard.</p><p>It’d  been  forty-two  days.</p><p>Curtis  didn’t  mind  sleeping  over  by  Edgar.  Hell,  he  was  becoming  tighter  with  the  young  man  as  Edgar  grew  older,  their  friendship  was  something  he  was  thankful  every  day  for.  Edgar  was  the  brother  he  didn’t  deserve  but  was  so  grateful  to  have.  Staying  up  and  talking  with  Edgar  filled  his  head  with  all  kinds  of  ideas  and  made  him  think  about  the  future,  in  ways  he’d  never  thought  possible.</p><p>In  those  forty-two  days  when  he  wasn’t  sleeping  above  Edgar,  he  was  spending  some  of  his  nights  over  in  Gilliam’s  room.  The  old  man  was  no  fool.  Curtis  had  two  good  arms,  two  good  legs  and  he  assumed  two  good  eyes.  He  hoped  that  was  all  that  needed  to  be  said  on  the  matter.</p><p>“Where’s  our  kiss  goodnight,”  Tanya  wanted  to  know,  as  the  lights  dimmed  one  last  time.</p><p>Swearing  and  boos  followed  by  tailies  who  hadn’t  been  able  to  finish  up  their  nightly  routine  and  get  in  their  bunks  in  time.</p><p>“I’ll  give  it  to  you  in  the  morning,”  he  told  the  darkness,  rewarded  with  a  laugh  from  Tanya  and  a  mumbled  warning  from  you,  threatening  to  go  occupy  his  bunk  at  the  first  sign  of  a  snore  from  him,  even  though  the  both  of  you  knew  Curtis  didn’t  snore.  </p><p>But  you  couldn’t  tell  him  the  truth.  It  was  too  humiliating.  If  Curtis  knew  what  you’d  done,  what  he’d  nearly  woke  up  to  seeing…you’d  never  be  able  to  look  him  in  the  eye.  Hell,  you’d  gladly  go  over  to  camp  out  in  his  bunk  and  listen  to  Edgar  and  Matteo  lose  their  virginity  to  one  another,  for  however  long  that  took,  than  risk  Curtis  finding  out  your  dirty  shame.  </p><p>Which  was  ridiculous.  </p><p>Sex  happened  and  was  natural.  Privacy  was  nonexistent  in  the  tail  section.  Masturbation  happened  and  was  normal.  Everyone  knew  about  it,  heard  it  and  gave  everyone  else  a  pass.  So  long  as  it  was  discreet  and  somewhat  quiet,  no  one  cared.  Life  went  on.  No  one  had  their  own  room.  No  one  had  much  of  anything  and  you  really  shouldn’t  have  cared,  you  shouldn’t  have  been  so  ashamed  and  thank  goodness  it  was  so  dark,  otherwise  Curtis  would  have  seen  the  guilty  written  all  over  your  face.</p><p>Yes,  you  regretted  that  you’d  acted  so  rashly  and  thrown  him  out  of  your  bunk.  But  what  were  you  supposed  to  do?  He’d  woken  up  and  nearly  caught  you  with  your  hand  down  your  pants.  What  would  he  have  done  or  said?  God  forbid  he  ever  found  out  you  were  touching  yourself  to  completion,  after  having  a  filthy  dream  about  him?  You’d  never  live  it  down.</p><p>“Night  Curtis…I  don’t  want  to  hear  any  complaining  in  the  morning  if  you  wake  up  in  a  puddle  of  my  blood.  You  knew  the  dangers  when  you  crawled  in  here.”</p><p>Beside  you  in  the  cold  dark  he  laughed  softly  to  himself.</p><p>“Those  are  my  choices?  Listening  to  a  double  first  time  down  the  aisle  or  risking  the  crimson  tide?”</p><p>Beside  you,  you  could  feel  him  moving  around  and  then  felt  your  blanket  settle  over  the  back  of  your  legs.  </p><p>Sounds  of  movement  and  talking  and  fellow  passengers  all  around  settling  in  like  every  night  was  an  almost  relaxing  cacophony  of  sounds.  Like  the  sounds  of  frogs  and  bugs  outside  on  a  hot  summer  night.  Metal  on  metal,  metal  groaning,  rattling…they  were  the  sounds  that  were  now  more  familiar  to  you,  than  the  old  sounds  you  used  to  fall  asleep  to.</p><p>Tanya’s  voice  drifted  over,  sounds  of  moving  around  coming  most  certain  from  her  bunk  as  she  and  Satomi  bedded  down  too.  “You  can  always  come  over  here  Curtis.  You  only  risk  waking  up  to  me  having  a  baby  on  you.”</p><p>That  made  Curtis  laugh.</p><p>The  rough  sound  was  beautiful  and  sexy  and  so  perfect  in  the  cold  blackness.</p><p>A  hand  fell  on  the  small  of  your  back,  slipping  in  between  the  layers  of  your  clothing  till  Curtis’s  calloused  cool  hand  brushed  over  the  skin  of  your  back.  A  soft  amount  of  pressure  was  administered  with  a  push  of  his  hand  over  your  aching  and  cramping  body.  Down  harder  into  the  spasming  muscles  and  then  up  along  your  spine,  up  over  your  sore  back  and  back  down,  where  Curtis  dug  his  fingers  into  the  small  of  your  back  and  you  swore.  Between  him  and  the  rolled-up  blanket  beneath  your  abdomen,  you  could  feel  your  heartbeat  in  your  uterus.  Unless  that  was  cramps  too.</p><p>Something  came  from  your  mouth  at  what  he  was  doing  to  you.  Something  that  could  have  been  painful  or  pleasure,  it  was  guttural  and  had  you  not  been  in  cramping  misery  beneath  his  skilled  hands,  you  might  have  been  able  to  bring  yourself  to  care.</p><p>And  that  was  how  you  fell  asleep.  Beneath  Curtis’s  knowing  hands  and  listening  to  the  sounds  of  the  train,  hearing  Tanya  tell  Satomi  to  remind  her  to  ask  Curtis  for  a  back  rub  in  the  morning.</p><p>Surprisingly,  you  drifted  into  a  pretty  deep  sleep.</p><p>You’d  expected  it  to  be  somewhat  restless,  due  to  the  agony  of  womanhood.  But  that  didn’t  seem  to  be  the  case.  For  whatever  reason,  you  were  out  of  it  pretty  quick  and  dreaming  hard.</p><p>Whether  it  was  cause  of  your  period,  your  meltdown,  your  stressing  over  Tanya’s  eventual  birth,  stressing  in  general.  All  of  it  influenced  your  dreams.</p><p>Your  dreams  had  Tanya  and  a  baby  wrapped  up  in  the  blanket  you  made.  </p><p>Edgar  was  there  too  and  all  of  you  were  on  the  family  farm  you’d  grown  up  on.  Edgar  ran  around  hanging  filthy  train  laundry  up  on  the  clothes  line  in  the  very  green  back  yard.  All  as  Tanya  walked  around,  cradled  her  baby  in  the  blanket  you’d  made  just  out  of  sight.</p><p>Gilliam  and  Curtis  were  there,  up  on  the  roof  of  the  barn  watching  everything, talking.</p><p>It  was  weird.  But  your  period  dreams  were  always  weird.</p><p>It  was  raining  but  there  was  no  snow.  A  train  whistle  went  off  in  the  distance  in  your  dream  somewhere,  but  you  never  saw  it.</p><p>Bunnies  escaped  from  your  grandmother’s  rabbit  hutch.  Hopping  around  in  the  thick  green  grass.  They  were  hopping  around  everywhere  and  as  soon  as  you’d  catch  one,  five  more  would  appear.  Big  bunnies.  Baby  bunnies.  Bunnies  hopping  all  around  the  backyard  of  the  farmhouse.  Back  where  Edgar  kept  hanging  up  dirty  laundry  as  Tanya  rocked  and  sang  to  her  new  baby.</p><p>Eventually,  you  decided  to  go  inside,  to  go  get  the  wicker  laundry  basket  so  you  could  catch  all  the  bunnies.</p><p>Dream  you  was  convinced.  If  you  put  the  bunnies  in  the  laundry  basket,  then  you  could  catch  them  all.</p><p>Once  inside  what  should  have  been  the  kitchen,  you  stumbled,  you  looked  around  in  surprise  to  see  the  room  you  had  as  a  teenager.  </p><p>A  room  up  on  the  second  floor  that  overlooked  the  back  yard  and  fields,  and  big  red  barn.  Old  antique  furniture  filled  the  bright  space.  White  lace  curtains  blew  in  the  rainy  afternoon  as  rain  tapped  against  the  window.</p><p>You  loved  the  rain  and  missed  it  so  desperately.</p><p>Curtis  was  there,  in  the  room  with  you.  Lounged  out  on  your  bed.  His  dirty  clothes  soiling  your  clean  white  sheets  beneath  him.  Still  in  his  weathered  coat,  worn  shirt  and  slacks.  Dark  hair  buzzed  short.  Dark  beard  trim.  Standing  out  so  much  against  the  clean  crisp  memory  of  your  past.  </p><p>When  he  reached  out  for  you  with  a  dirty  hand,  your  heart  pounded.  </p><p>“C’mere.”  </p><p>His  voice  was  rough  and  abrasive  on  your  skin.  In  a  way  your  virginal  body  couldn’t  pin  down,  but  your  very  much  experienced  mind  could  and  did  savor.  The  two  sides  of  you  at  constant  war  with  one  another  fought  as  you  went  to  him,  took  his  hand  in  your  own  and  sank  down  on  the  old  metal  framed  bed  that  squeaked  beneath  you.</p><p>This  was  the  one  place  you  could  escape.  Your  dreams  were  your  safe  haven  where  nothing  could  hurt  you  and  you  could  give  in.</p><p>“Beautiful,”  he  breathed  in  the  sight  of  you,  pulled  you  close  against  him  and  put his  mouth  to  your  neck  and  throat,  nimble  wet  tongue  exploring,  hands  pulling  at  your  clothes  till  they  were  gone  from  your  dream.</p><p>“Love  you  Curtis.”</p><p>Because  you  did,  you  so  deeply  loved  him.  You  sank  your  fingers  into  the  back  of  his  neck  to  hold  him  tight  to  you,  moving  against  his  body  above  you.  Writhing  up  against  him……</p><p> </p><p>……Curtis  woke  up  to  you  moving  around  beside  him.</p><p>You  were  a  deep  sleeper,  a  restless  sleeper  that  tended  to  mumble  or  say  things  while  you  slept.</p><p>In  the  dark  of  the  cart,  rattling  down  along  the  tracks,  he  knew  for  a  fact  that  you’d  woken  him  up.  </p><p>Soft  noises  came  from  you  in  your  sleep.</p><p>In  the  dark  he  could  see  you.  His  eyes  had  long  ago  adjusted.  Up  above  were  sporadically  placed  lights  that  offered  no  light,  merely  broke  through  the  inky  darkness  so  it  wasn’t  absolute.</p><p>Lost  somewhere  in  your  dream,  your  head  turned  back  and  forth  on  your  makeshift  pillow.  Sometime  in  the  night  you’d  rolled  on  your  back.  One  arm  flung  over,  hitting  Curtis,  your  legs  kicked  down  by  his.</p><p>Watching  you  breathe  out  deeply,  he  scooted  over  closer  to  you.  Rested  a  hand  over  your  heart  and  spoke  softly  to  you.  Whispered  comforting  things  to  try  and  soothe  your  dreams.  </p><p>All  around  were  sounds  of  snores,  deep  restful  breathing,  there  were  whispers  and  even  sounds  of  a  couple  making  love  somewhere  up  above  and  down  a  few  bunks.  Always  noisy.  The  tail-end  was  always  full  of  noises,  full  of  life……</p><p> </p><p>……your  dream  was  becoming  erotic,  like  it  usually  did.</p><p>Your  dreams  about  Curtis  were  always  erotic.</p><p>He  was  on  you  in  your  squeaky  metal  bed.  Above  you.  Inside  of  you.  His  clothes  brushing  against  your  bare  skin  and  no  matter  how  much  you  clawed  at  them,  they  never  came  off.  You  tugged  and  pulled  and  yanked  to  no  avail.</p><p>He  was  kissing  you  and  you  were  kissing  him.  Your  arms  wrapped  around  him  to  pull  him  against  you.</p><p>“Let  me  touch  you.  Please.  Curtis,  please.  I  wanna  touch  you.”</p><p>He  picked  up  his  pace,  fucking  you  harder  and  harder,  making  the  metal  bed  scream  out  beneath  you  both. </p><p>His  tongue  was  in  your  mouth.  Your  legs  were  wrapped  around  him  but  there  was  no  friction.  There  was  none  of  that  tingle.  There  was  something  missing.  Something  wasn’t  right,  your  dream  was  turning  into  a  nightmare……</p><p> </p><p>……beside  him,  in  the  dark  bunk,  you  were  moving  more.</p><p>Your  body  was  shifting  around.</p><p>You  were  mumbling.  </p><p>“…touch  you…Curtis,  please…”</p><p>Hearing  his  name  fall  from  your  lips  like  that  made  his  dick  thicken  up.  In  the  warm  bedding  of  you  bunk,  he  couldn’t  help  but  think  of  how  it  would  feel  if  he  made  you  writhe  around  like  that  beneath  him.</p><p>Down  your  hand  fell.  Down  over  your  pants,  touching  yourself.  Touching  yourself  only  briefly  as  he  grabbed  your  hand  and  pulled  it  from  you.  Entwined  his  fingers  in  with  yours  and  kissed  your  knuckles.</p><p>This  time  would  be  different.</p><p>This  time  he  would  make  sure  it  was  different.</p><p>A  pained  noise  came  from  you.  Your  fingers  tightened  around  his.  He  watched  you  turn  on  your  side  to  face  him,  sleeping  expression  pinched.  </p><p>“…love  you…love  you…Curtis…”</p><p>“I  love  you  too,”  he  whispered  back……</p><p> </p><p>……your  dream  was  wrong,  all  wrong,  so  wrong.</p><p>Curtis  told  you  he  loved  you,  whispered  it  against  your  chest  as  he  sucked  deeply  on  your  exposed  breast.  Buried  so  deep  within  you  and  not  moving,  none  of  that  friction  was  there,  none  of  those  good  feelings  were  happening  like  usually  in  your  dreams.</p><p>This  dream  was  unlike  all  the  others.</p><p>Something  was  different.</p><p>This  dream  was  frustrating  and  didn’t  feel  right,  it  wasn’t  right.</p><p>Something  wet  touched  your  hand.  Something  warm  and  wet  and  sharp  on  your  knuckles…</p><p>…waking  you  up  with  a  start,  a  gasp.</p><p>Jerking  awake.</p><p>You  were  never  one  of  those  people  who  woke  slowly,  gently,  like  a  fairy  tale  princess.  No.  Hell  no.</p><p>With  a  gasp  you  snapped  up,  head  popping  up  off  your  pillow,  elbows  shoving  up  behind  you  as  you  blinked,  looked  around  the  dark  of  your  bunk.  </p><p>Back  on  Snowpiercer.  Back  in  the  tail-end.  Back  in  your  bunk.  Back  in  the  cold.  Back  in  this  filthy  messy  existence.  </p><p>“…for  fucks  sake…”  you  muttered  more  to  yourself  than  anyone  specific.</p><p>Dropping  back  down  into  your  far  from  comfortable  bed,  you  covered  your  face  with  your  palms  and  felt  wetness  down  in  the  wadded-up  cloth  between  your  legs.  Right.  You  were  on  your  period  too.  How  could  you  forget  about  that  recent  development?  The  cramps  were  still  there  but  bearable.</p><p>Plus  you  were  now  horny.</p><p>Of  which  there  was  only  one  solution  to  this  problem.  Set  on  that  solution,  you  reached  down  to  touch  yourself,  adjust  yourself,  bring  yourself  off  with  your  fingers  to  satisfy  this  hunger  for  a  sleeping  Curtis.</p><p>“Are  you  really  going  to  do  that  with  me  right  here?”</p><p>Another  noise  came  from  you.  </p><p>A  surprised  noise  and  you  found  yourself  jerking  to  the  side,  pulling  your  hand  up  and  looking  closer  at  Curtis  who  in  the  dark,  upon  even  closer  inspection,  was  indeed  awake.</p><p>Curtis  moved.  He  crawled  over  you  quick,  covered  you  with  his  body  until  he  pinned  you  down  on  the  thin  matt  and  several  blankets  that  made  up  your  bunk.  A  thigh  pushed  up  against  the  apex  of  your  thighs  and  you  weren’t  sure  what  to  do  with  your  hands.  You  were  at  a  loss.  You  were  breathless  and  overwhelmed  and  feeling  his  weight  pushing  you  down  was  new.  A  significant  amount  of  his  weight  was  on  you.</p><p>You  could  feel  his  beard  brush  against  your  cheek.  You  felt  his  breath  hot  against  your  neck  in  the  cold  dark  of  your  bunk.  Curtis  was  a  shape  above  you  in  the  barest  hint  of  light.  “I’m  right  here,”  he  whispered  to  you,  voice  jagged  above  you,  taking  your  wrists  in  one  of  his  bigger  hands  and  sinking  between  your  thighs.  “If  you  want  to  feel  good…”  his  other  hand  found  its  way  down  between  your  legs,  cupped  you  over  your  clothes.  Gripped  you.  Ripped  a  surprised  gasp  from  you.  “If  you  want  an  orgasm.  I’ll  give  it  to  you.”  A  noise  came  from  you.  A  wanting  moan  of  a  noise  that  ended  on  something  that  sounded  distinctly  like  his  name.  Resulting  in  him  pushing  his  erection  against  your  thigh.</p><p>“Shit…”  you  hissed.  “Curtis…”</p><p>His  name  sounded  so  damn  good  on  your  tongue.  Curtis  wanted  to  hear  you  say  his  name  like  that,  just  like  that.  He  wanted  to  feel  you  beneath  him  like  this.  He  wanted  to  make  you  feel  good,  like  you  were  making  him  feel.  Pushing  his  erection  against  your  thigh,  against  your  covered  sex,  pushing  his  painfully  erect  organ  against  you  for  stimulation  and  contact  and  friction.</p><p>“Here’s  a  new  rule,”  he  snarled  into  your  ear,  arching  his  hips  just  so.  Curtis  rubbed  his  throbbing  cock  between  your  thighs  just  right,  to  get  that  perfect  feeling  for  both  of  you.  It  made  you  make  this  shaky  shuddering  noise  that  had  him  smile.  “Right  there?  That’s  the  spot?  Just  like  that?”  </p><p>Up  your  hips  moved,  your  pelvis  too.  Your  lower  body  moved  against  him  to  get  that  feeling  again,  to  seek  that  feeling  more.  </p><p>He  did  it  again  and  you  almost  came.  You  almost  climaxed  from  that  alone.  A  ragged  breath  came  out  of  you,  solely  from  the  way  he  was  making  you  feel.  The  combination  of  it  all.</p><p>“I’m  the  only  one  that  makes  you  come.  Got  it?”</p><p>His  name  escaped  from  you  in  a  plea.</p><p>How  he  took  your  response  you  couldn’t  say.  All  you  could  say  was  that  his  hand  moved  between  you,  shoved  down  the  front  of  your  pants.  Your  brain  short  circuited.  Curtis’s  hand  was  in  your  pants.  His  hand  was  down  in  your  pants.  It  was  the  first  time  it  had  ever  been  down  there,  touching  you  there,  bare.  Which  was  your  first  thought.  Curtis’s  hand  felt  so  new,  so  right,  so  rough  against  the  soft  part  of  you  between  your  thighs.  All  of  it  was  so  much.</p><p>You  whispered  his  name  in  a  plea.  A  plea  for  more.  A  plea  for  him.</p><p>Then…you  remembered…</p><p>“Oh  God  Curtis,  no,  I’m…”</p><p>“It’s  fine.  I  don’t  care.  I  want  to  touch  you  no  matter  what.”  He  really  didn’t,  he  could  go  over  to  the  spicket  of  water  that  ran  along  the  train  and  clean  up  after.  Not  for  a  while  though.  Not  when  he  finally  was  feeling  you,  feeling  your  softest  most  intimate  place.  Finally  able  to  rub  your  clit  while  he  fucked  up  against  you.</p><p>All  you  could  think  about  was  how  good  he  made  you  feel.  All  you  could  think  about  was  him,  his  body,  him  making  you  feel  good.  You  wanted  him  to  feel  good  too.  If  only  you  could  get  your  hands  free.</p><p>“Curtis…let  go,  I  wanna  touch  you.  I  want  to  feel  you.”</p><p>“You  will,”   he  whispered  against  your  ear,  “You  will.”  </p><p>Rutting  up  against  you,  meeting  your  desperate  movements  with  his  own.  Slipping  his  fingers  up  and  down  through  your  sex.  Playing  with  your  clit.  Rolling  it  around,  making  you  pant  and  push  against  him,  hump  up  against  his  clothed  erection.  All  in  the  near  dark.  Going  on  feel  and  touch  alone.</p><p>Fingertips  slipped  around  your  entrance.  Two  fingers  pushed  inside  of  you  and  then  he  stopped.  His  hips  stopped  moving  against  you.  His  hand  stopped  moving.  Even  his  body  shifted  up  on  top  of  you  and  you  knew,  you  absolutely  knew  what  he’d  found.</p><p>“What’s  this?”</p><p>Curtis  knew  what  it  was,  he  sure  as  hell  knew  what  the  tight  little  ring  of  flesh  in  the  most  wonderful  pussy  he’d  ever  touched  was  and  he  could  not  believe  it.  His  brain  could  not  believe  it.  His  reasoning  could  not  make  the  connection  to  cross  that  bridge  and  make  that  leap.</p><p>It  wasn’t  like  you  could  lie.  It  was  obvious  what  it  was.</p><p>Breathing  out  slowly,  you  wiggled  your  fingers  up  above  your  head.  Speaking  quietly  beneath  Curtis’s  weight  and  feeling  very  much  like  what  you  were  confessing,  you  told  him,  “My  hymen.”</p><p>“You’re  a  virgin?”</p><p>“Yeah,”  breathless,  you  were  breathless  and  burning  up  in  shame.  Finding  your  legs  opening  wider  to  accommodate  him.  You  could  feel  his  finger  tracing  along  that  bit  of  flesh  inside  you,  proving  that  you  weren’t  the  person  Curtis  thought.</p><p>“I’ve  never  been  with  a  virgin,”  he  confessed  to  you,  pushing  against  that  ring.  In  a  state  of  surprise  that  you  hadn’t  ever  had  sex.  It  was  a  real  shock.  He  almost  felt  like  that  was  something  he  would  have  known.  Something  this  monumental  he  would  have  noticed  in  how  you  acted  around  him,  reacted,  interacted.  “How  could  you  have  never?”  </p><p>Small,  your  voice  was  so  small  beneath  Curtis.  “You  know  why.”</p><p>Curtis  knew  why.  You  didn’t  want  to  wind  up  pregnant.  You  didn’t  want  to  have  your  heart  broken.</p><p>That  he  would  be  your  first  for  everything…it  hit  hard.</p><p>His  hand  was  out  of  your  pants.  He  let  go  of  your  hands  pinned  down  above  your  head  and  for  a  second,  you  thought  that  your  heart  was  about  to  break,  that  Curtis  wouldn’t  want  you  like  this.  Inexperienced.  Unfamiliar  with  the  male  body  or  how  to  make  him  feel  good.  That  he  no  longer  wanted  you.</p><p>Up  until  his  hands  took  your  face  between  them  and  his  mouth  was  on  yours.  In  the  dark,  his  body  completely  enveloped  yours,  pushed  you  back  down  flat  and  he  straddled  your  pelvis.  His  lips  touched  your  neck  and  chin  and  cheek,  all  the  way  to  your  mouth.  “I  love  you  so  fucking  much.  Let  me  make  you  feel  good.  I  won’t  get  you  pregnant.  We’ll  work  up  to  sex  and  you’ll  see.  I’ll  make  you  feel  so  good.”</p><p>“I  love  you,”  you  whispered  back  to  him,  feeling  him  more  than  seeing  him.  Feeling  Curtis’s  soft  beard  on  your  face.  Feeling  his  nose  butt  against  your  own.  Feeling  his  weight  pin  you  down.  “I  love  you  so  much.”</p><p>Those  words  felt  like  you.  Your  body  beneath  him  felt  like  you.  All  of  this  felt  so  much  like  you  that  Curtis  didn’t  care  anymore.  He  didn’t  care  that  you  had  kept  this  from  him.  Because  this  life  was  hard  enough.  He  wasn’t  interested  in  punishing  you  for  being  the  person  the  tail-end  had  turned  you  into.  What  good  would  that  do  him  or  you?  All  he  wanted  was  all  of  you  and  he  was  so  close.</p><p>“What  if  we  aren’t  careful  enough?  What  if  I  get  pregnant?”</p><p>His  forehead  pressed  to  yours.  His  mouth  was  so  close  to  yours  you  could  feel  his  beard  and  mouth  with  every  word.  “We  won’t  do  anything  like  that.  Not  till  you’re  ready.  We’ll  be  careful.”</p><p>Curtis  told  you  that  you’d  both  be  careful.  When  you  were  ready,  you  two  could  have  sex.  They  were  perfect  words.  They  were  words  you  so  badly  wanted  to  hear.  So  desperately  wanted  to  be  told.</p><p>Unable  to  help  yourself  now  that  you  were  being  so  open.  You  breathed  out,  and  on  that  exhale,  “I’m  not  ready  yet.  I  want  to  touch  you.  I  want  to  feel  you.  I  want  to  hold  you.  I  want  you  now.  But  I’m  not  ready.”</p><p>“What  do  you  want?  Put  your  hands  on  me.  Show  me  what  you  want  to  touch.”</p><p>In  the  dark  you  reached  up.  You  touched  his  chest.  Like  in  your  dream,  you  tugged  on  his  shirt  so  you  could  feel  all  of  that  skin.  Skin  you  wanted  so  badly  to  put  your  hands  on  and  your  movements  had  Curtis  sitting  up  on  your  pelvis.  Sending  him  shucking  off  his  coat.  Pulling  his  shirts  off  over  his  head.  Tossing  them  all  to  the  side.  Feeling  the  cold  air  on  his  chest  that  he  didn’t  notice  when  your  hands  found  his  tight  stomach.  He  could  feel  how  hungrily  your  hands  searched  over  his  stomach  and  up  his  sides,  over  his  chest  and  down.  Touching  him.  Feeling  him.  Skin  smooth,  scarred  in  places  that  you  could  feel.  You  slowed  over  his  nipples  and  the  soft  dusting  of  hair  on  his  chest  and  navel.  Finally,  you  were  finally  touching  Curtis.  You  were  finally  getting  to  feel  him.</p><p>Pushing  yourself  up,  your  fingers  traveled  down  to  his  pants.</p><p>“Can  I  touch…this  part  of  you?”</p><p>“Say  it,”  Curtis  said  in  the  dark  of  your  bed,  straddling  your  lap,  more  than  enjoying  your  exploration  of  him,  feeling  your  desire  all  over  his  body.  “You  said  it  before.  Say  it.  I  wanna  hear  you  say  it.”</p><p>Up  until  now,  you  had  no  problem  saying  that  word.</p><p>Now  he  knew  though,  now  he  knew  that  you  had  never  had  sex.  Now  he  knew  there  was  something  different  about  you.  All  of  you  joking  and  confidence  hit  different  now.</p><p>“Your  dick.  I  want  to  touch  your  dick.”</p><p>Those  words,  now,  they  felt  so  weird  on  your  tongue.  Because  now  he  knew  you’d  never  held  one,  touched  one,  had  one  in  you  or  in  your  mouth.  Above  you  Curtis  moved,  jerked,  shifted  around.</p><p>“Give  me  your  hands.”</p><p>You  gave  him  your  hands.  Finding  his  in  the  dark  and  allowing  him  to  guide  them  down,  where  he  set  one  on  his  penis  and  the  other  underneath,  on  his  balls  and  that  knowledge,  it  made  your  face  <em>burn</em>.</p><p>He  was  hard  and  thick  and  big.  Smooth  beneath  your  hand.  You  couldn’t  wrap  your  hand  entirely  around  him.  Hard,  how  was  he  that  hard?  He  felt  so  alive  too.  Slowly  you  pushed  your  hand  up  his  length  to  his  root,  where  soft  pubic  hair  tickled  your  hand  and  then  down,  down  the  length  of  him  to  his  crown.  In  your  other  hand  rested  two  solid  fleshy  globes,  parts  of  him  that  you  couldn’t  help  but  fondle.</p><p>“Is  this  ok?  Am  I  doing  it  right?”</p><p>In  response,  Curtis  dropped  his  forehead  down  against  your  own.  Breathed  in  deeply.  Smoothed  his  hands  up  and  down  your  arms,  assuring  you,  “You  could  never  touch  me  the  wrong  way.  Like  that…you  can  hold  me  tighter,  pump  me  harder,  it  won’t  break.  Feels  good  like  that.”</p><p>Your  grip  grew  firmer  on  his  shaft,  harder  you  pushed  your  hand  up  and  down  the  length  of  him,  killing  him.  After  so  long.  After  so  many  times  imagining  this.  After  everything  that  had  led  to  this  since  you  had  woke  him  up.  Curtis  knew  he  wouldn’t  last  long.  Not  with  the  way  you  fondled  his  heavy  sac  and  explored  his  cock  with  a  hand  nearly  as  firm  as  his  own,  but  better  since  it  was  yours.</p><p>Thinking  of  ejaculating  on  your  clothes,  marking  your  clothes.  He  came.  It  was  that  thought  which  pushed  him  over  the  edge. </p><p>His  hips  bucked  up  against  you.  Curtis  climaxed,  he  came  far  faster  than  he  ever  had  in  his  life  and  couldn’t  even  begin  to  be  ashamed,  because  it  meant  he  would  get  to  touch  you  that  much  sooner.  A  searing  blinding  heat  swept  through  his  body,  rendering  him  helpless  to  you.  Cock  angrily  spewing  his  release  on  your  clothes  where  it  would  dry.  Eventually  stain.  Where  others  would  see  it.  Where  men  would  see  it  and  know.</p><p>It  made  him  come  harder.  Made  him  gasp  through  his  teeth.  The  feeling  of  your  mouth  on  his  chest  was  not  helpful.  Kissing  over  his  chest  and  sternum,  collarbone.  Curtis  swore  he  felt  the  tip  of  your  wet  tongue  dip  out  to  touch  him,  taste  him,  feel  his  skin  on  your  mouth.</p><p>Too  much.</p><p>It  was  too  much.</p><p>You  were  still  touching  his  cock,  his  sac.  Your  teeth  nipped  at  his  nipple  and  he  was  done.  He  couldn’t  wait  another  second.  He  had  to  touch  you.  He  had  to  make  you  come,  climax,  he  had  to  share  in  this  with  you.  He  had  to  touch  you  again.</p><p>“Open  your  legs.”  Voice  rough,  a  growl  really,  frantic.  “Spread  your  legs.”  Leaning  down  his  mouth  was  on  your  neck,  his  teeth  on  your  skin  and  you  were  squirming  beneath  him.  Right  before  his  hand  sank  down  into  your  pants  again.  Back  into  that  warm  wet.  Against  the  back  of  his  hand,  he  could  feel  the  folded-up  cloth  down  there  and  did  not  care.  He  didn’t.  He  loved  you.  He  wasn’t  afraid  to  touch  you.  He  wanted  you  no  matter  what  and  he  was  a  grown  man,  he  wasn’t  a  teenager  unfamiliar  with  a  woman.  You  were  the  woman  he  wanted  and  loved  and  this  was  what  your  body  did.</p><p>Whether  it  was  your  arousal  or  menstrual  blood,  or  both,  Curtis  didn’t  care.  His  fingertips  strummed  over  your  wet  clit  and  your  face  fell  against  his  chest.  Sending  his  name  from  your  lips  in  a  soft  chant  that  grew  quicker  with  every  stroke,  each  thumb  or  circle  around  your  small  bundle  of  nerves.</p><p>Your  arms  wrapped  around  his  waist  and  sank  into  his  back.  Truth  be  told,  he  didn’t  even  notice  the  cold.  You  were  going  to  come.  He  was  going  to  make  you  climax.  This  was  his  first  time  getting  his  hands  on  you  in  the  biblical  sense.  He  was  making  sure,  without  a  doubt,  that  he  made  you  come.</p><p>Curtis  had  gotten  you  to  agree  to  give  it  a  chance,  explore  the  physical  side  of  your  relationship,  ease  into  sex.  He  would  certainly  make  you  come  on  his  hand.</p><p>You  had  made  him  shoot  his  load  all  over  you,  like  he  was  a  teenager  again,  incapable  of  keeping  his  dick  under  control  and  soiling  your  dirty  clothes.  He  would  get  that  climax  out  of  you  one  way  or  another.</p><p>Soon  too.</p><p>You  were  close.</p><p>You  may  have  been  a  virgin  but  Curtis  was  not.  Every  time  your  fingers  dug  into  his  back,  every  time  you  panted  or  buried  your  face  into  his  chest,  or  humped  his  hand  seeking  that  pleasure  his  touches  promised,  he  knew  he  was  on  the  right  road. </p><p>Somehow  you  became  even  wetter.  Your  legs  began  to  shake  as  he  stroked  your  clit  a  little  harder,  circling  around  it,  smearing  your  wetness  more,  rubbing  and  when  you  came,  you  tried  to  pull  away.  Frantic  to  get  away  from  his  hand  and  Curtis’s  touch,  to  have  your  orgasm  in  peace  without  further  stimulation.  Not  that  Curtis  would  have  any  of  that,  not  now,  not  after  all  the  time  he  waited.  Banding  an  arm  around  you  and  sinking  his  weight  on  your  thighs,  Curtis  stroked  you  through  your  release.  He  held  you  tight  as  you  came  apart  in  his  arms.  He  rested  his  face  against  the  top  of  your  head  as  you  writhed  and  bucked  against  him,  humped  his  hand  and  clenched  his  wrist  tight  between  your  thighs,  in  the  riding  out  of  your  body’s  first  orgasm  from  him.</p><p>Slowly,  the  two  of  you  both  came  down.  Though  it  felt  like  coming  down  from  the  pair  of  orgasms  was  easiest.  </p><p>Racing  hearts  and  sweaty  skin  and  spasming  flesh  was  easy  to  come  down  from.</p><p>What  you  two  had  discussed  before  and  during,  that  felt  more  raw,  left  you  both  more  vulnerable  than  the  physical  act  your  bodies  were  made  for  by  nature.</p><p>Eventually,  Curtis  withdrew  his  hand.  </p><p>Eventually  the  two  of  you  curled  up  beneath  the  blanket.  As  you  had  woken  up  that  morning.  Wrapped  in  the  other’s  arms.  Entwined  in  one  another’s  body.  As  if  that  was  the  true  state  of  where  you  belonged.</p><p>You  fell  asleep  fast  and  hard,  leaving  Curtis  to  think  for  a  bit.  </p><p>Bare  arms  wrapped  around  you  tightly.  Pants  still  unfasted.  Semi  hard  penis  pressed  between  your  bodies.  Chest  still  bare,  so  you  could  feel  him  as  you  drifted  off  to  sleep.  Long  after  you  fell  asleep,  he  could  feel  your  fingertips  dance  over  the  flesh  of  his  back.  It  was  a  gesture  far  more  soothing  than  it  should  have  been.</p><p>He  hardly  realized  that  he’d  fallen  asleep  too.  </p><p>Just  like  early  the  previous  morning,  when  he’d  slipped  into  your  bed  after  Satomi  had  gotten  up.  Well,  almost  like  the  previous  morning.  Almost  like  it,  if  that  meant  it  would  never  again  be  the  same.  Everything  had  changed  now  and  there  was  nowhere  to  go  now  but  forward,  because  Curtis  was  not  going  back  to  before.</p><p>Eventually  the  morning  came.  Because  it  always  came.</p><p>Even  time  always  went  forward.</p>
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